The Complete Tarzan Collection

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The Complete Tarzan Collection Page 319

by Edgar Rice Burroughs


  Breakfast over, Zora took down her rifle, wiped out the bore and oiled the breech mechanism, for today she was going out after fresh meat, the Arabs having refused to hunt. La watched her with evident interest and later saw her depart with Wamala and two of the black porters; but she did not attempt to accompany her since, although she had looked for it, she had received no sign to do so.

  Ibn Dammuk was the son of a sheikh of the same tribe as Abu Batn, and upon this expedition he was the latter's right-hand man. With the fold of his thorib drawn across the lower part of his face, leaving only his eyes exposed, he had been watching the two girls from a distance. He saw Zora Drinov quit the camp with a gun-bearer and two porters and knew that she had gone to hunt.

  For some time after she had departed he sat in silence with two companions. Then he arose and sauntered across the camp toward La of Opar, where she sat buried in reverie in a camp chair before Zora's tent. As the three men approached, La eyed them with level gaze, her natural suspicion of strangers aroused in her breast. As they came closer and their features became distinct, she felt a sudden distrust of them. They were crafty, malign looking men, not at all like Tarzan, and instinctively she distrusted them.

  They halted before her and Ibn Dammuk, the son of a sheikh, addressed her. His voice was soft and oily, but it did not deceive her.

  La eyed him haughtily. She did not understand him and she did not wish to, for the message that she read in his eyes disgusted her. She shook her head to signify that she did not understand and turned away to indicate that the interview was terminated, but Ibn Dammuk stepped closer and laid a hand familiarly upon her naked shoulder.

  Her eyes flaming with anger, La leaped to her feet, one hand moving swiftly to the hilt of her dagger. Ibn Dammuk stepped back, but one of his men leaped forward to seize her.

  Misguided fool! Like a tigress she was upon him; and before his friends could intervene, the sharp blade of the knife of Darus, the priest of the Flaming God, had sunk thrice into his breast, and with a gasping scream he had slumped to the ground dead.

  With flaming eyes and bloody knife, the high priestess of Opar stood above her kill, while Abu Batn and the other Arabs, attracted by the death cry of the stricken man, ran hurriedly toward the little group.

  "Stand back!" cried La. "Lay no profaning hand upon the person of the high priestess of the Flaming God."

  They did not understand her words, but they understood her flashing eyes and her dripping blade. Jabbering volubly, they gathered around her, but at a safe distance. "What means this, Ibn Dammuk?" demanded Abu Batn.

  "Dogman did but touch her, and she flew at him like el adrea, lord of the broad head."

  "A lioness she may be," said Abu Batn, "but she must not be harmed."

  "Wullah!" exclaimed Ibn Dammuk, "but she must be tamed."

  "Her taming we may leave to him who will pay many pieces of gold for her," replied the sheikh. "It is necessary only for us to cage her. Surround her, my children, and take the knife from her. Make her wrists secure behind her back, and by the time the other returns we shall have struck camp and be ready to depart."

  A dozen brawny men leaped upon La simultaneously. "Do not harm her! Do not harm her!" screamed Abu Batn, as, fighting like a lioness indeed, La sought to defend herself. Slashing right and left with her dagger, she drew blood more than once before they overpowered her; nor did they accomplish it before another Arab fell with a pierced heart, but at length they succeeded in wrenching the blade from her and securing her wrists.

  Leaving two warriors to guard her, Abu Batn turned his attention to gathering up the few black servants that remained in camp. These he forced to prepare loads of such of the camp equipment and provisions as he required. While this work was going on under Ibn Dammuk's supervision, the sheikh ransacked the tents of the Europeans, giving special attention to those of Zora Drinov and Zveri, where he expected to find the gold that the leader of the expedition was reputed to have in large quantities; nor was he entirely disappointed since he found in Zora's tent a box containing a considerable amount of money, though by no means the great quantity that he had expected, a fact which was due to the foresight of Zveri, who had personally buried the bulk of his funds beneath the floor of his tent.

  Zora met with unexpected success in her hunting, for within a little more than an hour of her departure from camp she had come upon antelope, and two quick shots had dropped as many members of the herd. She waited while the porters skinned and dressed them and then returned leisurely toward camp. Her mind was occupied to some extent with the disquieting attitude of the Arabs, but she was not at all prepared for the reception that she met when she approached camp about noon.

  She was walking in advance, immediately followed by Wamala, who was carrying both of her rifles, while behind them were the porters, staggering under their heavy loads. Just as she was about to enter the clearing, Arabs leaped from the underbrush on either side of the trail. Two of them seized Wamala and wrenched the rifles from his grasp, while others laid heavy hands upon Zora. She tried to free herself from them and draw her revolver, but the attack had taken her so by surprise that before she could accomplish anything in defense, she was overpowered and her hands bound at her back.

  "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded. "Where is Abu Batn, the sheikh?"

  The men laughed at her. "You shall see him presently," said one. "He has another guest whom he is entertaining, so he could not come to meet you," at which they all laughed again.

  As she stepped into the clearing where she could obtain an unobstructed view of the camp, she was astounded by what she saw. Every tent had been struck. The Arabs were leaning on their rifles ready to march, each of them burdened with a small pack, while the few black men, who had been left in camp, were lined up before heavy loads. All the rest of the paraphernalia of the camp, which Abu Batn had not men enough to transport, was heaped in a pile in the center of the clearing, and even as she looked she saw men setting torches to it.

  As she was led across the clearing toward the waiting Arabs, she saw her erstwhile guest between two warriors, her wrists confined by thongs even as her own. Near her, scowling malevolently, was Abu Batn.

  "Why have you done this thing, Abu Batn?" demanded Zora.

  "Allah was wroth that we should betray our land to the Nasrany," said the sheikh. "We have seen the light, and we are going back to our own people."

  "What do you intend to do with this woman and with me?" asked Zora.

  "We shall take you with us for a little way," replied Abu Batn. "I know a kind man who is very rich, who will give you both a good home."

  "You mean that you are going to sell us to some black sultan?" demanded the girl.

  The sheikh shrugged. "I would not put it that way," he said. "Rather let us say that I am making a present to a great and good friend and saving you and this other woman from certain death in the jungle should we depart without you."

  "Abu Batn, you are a hypocrite and a traitor," cried Zora, her voice vibrant with contempt.

  "The Nasrany like to call names," said the sheikh with a sneer. "Perhaps if the pig, Zveri, had not called us names, this would not have happened."

  "So this is your revenge," asked Zora, "because he reproached you for your cowardice at Opar?"

  "Enough!" snapped Abu Batn. "Come, my children, let us be gone."

  As the flames licked at the edges of the great pile of provisions and equipment that the Arabs were forced to leave behind, the deserters started upon their march toward the West.

  The girls marched near the head of the column, the feet of the Arabs and the carriers behind them totally obliterating their spoor from the motley record of the trail. They might have found some comfort in their straits had they been able to converse with one another; but La could understand no one and Zora found no pleasure in speaking to the Arabs, while Wamala and the other blacks were so far toward the rear of the column that she could not have communicated with them had she cared to
.

  To pass the time away, Zora conceived the idea of teaching her companion in misery some European language, and because in the original party there had been more who were familiar with English than any other tongue, she selected that language for her experiment.

  She began by pointing to herself and saying "woman" and then to La and repeating the same word, after which she pointed to several of the Arabs in succession and said "man" in each instance. It was evident that La understood her purpose immediately, for she entered into the spirit of it with eagerness and alacrity, repeating the two words again and again, each time indicating either a man or a woman.

  Next the European girl again pointed to herself and said "Zora." For a moment La was perplexed, and then she smiled and nodded.

  "Zora," she said, pointing to her companion, and then, swiftly, she touched her own breast with a slender forefinger and said, "La."

  And this was the beginning. Each hour La learned new words, all nouns at first, that described each familiar object that appeared oftenest to their view. She learned with remarkable celerity, evidencing an alert and intelligent mind and a retentive memory, for once she learned a word she never forgot it. Her pronunciation was not always perfect, for she had a decidedly foreign accent that was like nothing Zora Drinov ever had heard before, and so altogether captivating that the teacher never tired of hearing her pupil recite.

  As the march progressed, Zora realized that there was little likelihood that they would be mistreated by their captors, it being evident to her that the sheikh was impressed with the belief that the better the condition in which they could be presented to their prospective purchaser the more handsome the return that Abu Batn might hope to receive.

  Their route lay to the northwest through a section of the Galla country of Abyssinia, and from scraps of conversation Zora overhead she learned that Abu Batn and his followers were apprehensive of danger during this portion of the journey. And well they may have been, since for ages the Arabs have conducted raids in Galla territory for the purpose of capturing slaves, and among the Negroes with them was a Galla slave that Abu Batn had brought with him from his desert home.

  After the first day the prisoners had been allowed the freedom of their hands, but always Arab guards surrounded them, though there seemed little likelihood that an unarmed girl would take the risk of escaping into the jungle, where she would be surrounded by the dangers of wild beasts or almost certain starvation. However, could Abu Batn have read their thoughts, he might have been astonished to learn that in the mind of each was a determination to escape to any fate rather than to march docilely on to an end that the European girl was fully conscious of and which La of Opar unquestionably surmised in part.

  La's education was progressing nicely by the time the party approached the border of the Galla country, but in the meantime both girls had become aware of a new menace threatening La of Opar. Ibn Dammuk marched often beside her, and in his eyes, when he looked at her, was a message that needed no words to convey. But when Abu Batn was near, Ibn Dammuk ignored the fair prisoner, and this caused Zora the most apprehension, for it convinced her that the wily Ibn was but biding his time until he might find conditions favorable to the carrying out of some scheme that he already had decided upon, nor did Zora harbor any doubts as to the general purpose of his plan.

  At the edge of the Galla country they were halted by a river in flood. They could not go north into Abyssinia proper, and they dared not go south, where they might naturally have expected pursuit to follow. So perforce they were compelled to wait where they were.

  And while they waited Ibn Dammuk struck.

  9. IN THE DEATH CELL OF OPAR

  Once again Peter Zveri stood before the walls of Opar, and once again the courage of his black soldiers was dissipated by the weird cries of the inmates of the city of mystery. The ten warriors, who had not been to Opar before and who had volunteered to enter the city, halted trembling as the first of the blood-curdling screams rose, shrill and piercing, from the forbidding ruins.

  Miguel Romero once more led the invaders, and directly behind him was Wayne Colt. According to the plan the blacks were to have followed closely behind these two, with the rest of the whites bringing up the rear, where they might rally and encourage the Negroes, or if necessary, force them on at the points of their pistols. But the blacks would not even enter the opening of the outer wall, so demoralized were they by the uncanny warning screams which their superstitious minds attributed to malignant demons, against which there could be no defense and whose animosity meant almost certain death for those who disregarded their wishes.

  "In with you, you dirty cowards!" cried Zveri, menacing the blacks with his revolver in an effort to force them into he opening.

  One of the warriors raised his rifle threateningly. "Put way your weapon, white man," he said. "We will fight men, but we will not fight the spirits of the dead."

  "Lay off, Peter," said Dorsky. "You will have the whole bunch on us in a minute and we shall all be killed."

  Zveri lowered his pistol and commenced to plead with the warriors, promising them rewards that amounted to riches to them if they would accompany the whites into the city; but the volunteers were obdurate - nothing could induce them to venture into Opar.

  Seeing failure once again imminent and with a mind already obsessed by the belief that the treasures of Opar would make him fabulously wealthy and insure the success of his secret scheme of empire, Zveri determined to follow Romero and Colt with the remainder of his aides, which consisted only of Dorsky, Ivitch and the Filipino boy. "Come on," he said, "we will have to make a try at it alone, if these yellow dogs won't help us."

  By the time the four men had passed through the outer wall, Romero and Colt were already out of sight beyond the inner wall. Once again the warning scream broke menacingly upon the brooding silence of the ruined city.

  "God!" ejaculated Ivitch. "What do you suppose it could be?"

  "Shut up," exclaimed Zveri irritably. "Stop thinking about it, or you'll go yellow like those damn blacks."

  Slowly they crossed the court toward the inner wall, nor was there much enthusiasm manifest among them other than for an evident desire in the breast of each to permit one of the others the glory of leading the advance. Tony had reached the opening when a bedlam of noise from the opposite side of the wall burst upon their ears—a hideous chorus of war cries, mingled with the sound of rushing feet. There was a shot, and then another and another.

  Tony turned to see if his companions were following him. They had halted and were standing with blanched faces, listening.

  Then Ivitch turned. "To hell with the gold!" he said, and started back toward the outer wall at a run.

  "Come back, you lousy cur," cried Zveri, and took after him with Dorsky at his heels. Tony hesitated for a moment and then scurried in pursuit, nor did any of them halt until they were beyond the outer wall. There Zveri overtook Ivitch and seized him by the shoulder. "I ought to kill you," he cried in a trembling voice.

  "You were as glad to get out of there as I was," growled Ivitch. "What was the sense of going in there? We should only have been killed like Colt and Romero. There were too many of them. Didn't you hear them?"

  "I think Ivitch is right," said Dorsky. "It's all right to be brave, but we have got to remember the cause—if we are killed everything is lost."

  "But the gold!" exclaimed Zveri. "Think of the gold!"

  "Gold is no good to dead men," Dorsky reminded him.

  "How about our comrades?" asked Tony. "Are we to leave them to be killed?"

  "To bell with the Mexican," said Zveri, "and as for the American I think his funds will still be available as long as we can keep the news of his death from getting back to the Coast."

  "You are not even going to try to rescue them?" asked Tony.

  "I cannot do it alone," said Zveri.

  "I will go with you," said Tony.

  "Little good two of us can accomplish," mumbled Zveri, and
then in one of his sudden rages, he advanced menacingly upon the Filipino, his great figure towering above that of the other.

  "Who do you think you are anyway?" he demanded. "I am in command here. When I want your advice I'll ask for it."

  When Romero and Colt passed through the inner wall, that part of the interior of the temple which they could see appeared deserted, and yet they were conscious of movement in the darker recesses and the apertures of the ruined galleries that looked down into the courtway.

  Colt glanced back. "Shall we wait for the others?" he asked.

  Romero shrugged. "I think we are going to have this glory all to ourselves, comrade," he said with a grin.

  Colt smiled back at him. "Then let's get on with the business," he said. "I don't see anything very terrifying yet."

  "There is something in there though," said Romero. "I've seen things moving."

  "So have I," said Colt.

  With their rifles ready, they advanced boldly into the temple; but they had not gone far when, from shadowy archways and from numerous gloomy doorways there rushed a horde of horrid men, and the silence of the ancient city was shattered by hideous war cries.

  Colt was in advance and now he kept on moving forward, firing a shot above the heads of the grotesque warrior priests of Opar. Romero saw a number of the enemy running along the side of the great room which they had entered, with the evident intention of cutting off their retreat. He swung about and fired, but not over their heads. Realizing the gravity of their position, he shot to kill, and now Colt did the same, with the result that the screams of a couple of wounded men mingled now with the war cries of their fellows.

  Romero was forced to drop back a few steps to prevent the Oparians from surrounding him. He shot rapidly now and succeeded in checking the advance around their flank. A quick glance at Colt showed him standing his ground, and at the same instant he saw a hurled club strike the American on the head. The man dropped like a log, and instantly his body was covered by the terrible little men of Opar.

 

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